


Cheating the Game

by Erisah_Mae



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Not very accidental baby acquisition, Yennefer gets to be a mother, Yennefer is kinda a sociopath, but she does care, the baby lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22251805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erisah_Mae/pseuds/Erisah_Mae
Summary: The assassin's aim was slightly off-centre. Yennefer's scene on the beach goes rather differently.Yennefer decides to cheat the game.
Comments: 50
Kudos: 246





	1. Chapter 1

Yennefer struggled through the surf. The baby was unsettlingly quiet, frozen in her arms. Wincing at the pain from the knife that had cracked her shoulder-blade and was even now scraping her ribcage from the inside, she staggered as a low wave wrapped her skirts around her legs, managing somehow to not drop her precious bundle even as she tripped and fell to her knees in the coarse sand.

Her heart hammered in her ears, and her hair obscured her vision and dripped salt into her eyes as she looked down, checking to see if the baby was alright.

It took her a moment to understand what she was seeing. There was blood all over the baby’s swaddling, but as she pulled back the blanket, she could see that the baby herself was unmarked.

Then the baby took in a deep, startled breath at the feeling of the cold breeze upon her suddenly exposed sea-damped skin and started bawling, and Yennefer couldn’t help but grin. The blood was hers. The baby was safe.

“Do not cry, little one, you are well!” she cooed, reaching forward to stroke the baby’s face as she clumsily rewrapped her blanket. Didn’t want the little one to catch cold after their impromptu dip in the surf.

What was her name? Yennefer had missed the official birth announcement, too busy entertaining ambassadors from Cintra (oh the irony) to take note.

She supposed that she should be sorry that she had skipped into the field of flowers, leaving Kalis to her fate at the hands of the assassin and his Krallach.

Well. No use thinking of what else she should have done, at the end of her energy and at the end of her patience. Perhaps if Kalis had not accused her of being incompetent, Yennefer would not have given into the spiteful impulse that had her leaving the bitter queen to the assassin’s lack of mercy.

Regardless, upon having a moment to catch her breath, and regain her better judgement, she had come back. 

In time to save the child, if not the ungrateful mother, and Yennefer told herself that Kalis’s shade would have to be content with that.

Blood dripped from her chest, further dirtying the baby’s blanket.

Well this wouldn’t do.

With a grimace, Yennefer concentrated, and then suddenly the throwing knife was on the ground beside the bawling, squirming princess.

Well, considering her father had paid an assassin to kill her, perhaps former princess was more accurate.

Yennefer fumbled with the sodden string that held one of her inner pockets shut, and then drew out a vial. Not for the first time, she was thankful that she had learned that it was always better to be overprepared, even though she had not expected any trouble escorting Kalis.

Trouble was an understatement for the circumstances she found herself in just now. She yanked the cork from the vial with her teeth, downed the contents, and then tucked the vial back away. She could not hold back a gasp as the pain spiked, and then suddenly receded as the wound healed so that it looked a month old rather than fresh.

She rolled her shoulder slightly and winced at the ache. Not for the first time, she blessed the existence of magic and her good fortune in learning how to use it.

The baby princess was still crying, so Yennefer picked her up, humming under her breath. It had been so long since she had held a child. She had been one herself, the last time, and distantly, she noted that it was easier now, than it had been before with her twisted spine.

She had held all of her half-siblings. Funny, after all these years, she could barely remember their faces. Idly she wondered if her mother was still alive, if she would be able to recognise her unwanted daughter when only her purple eyes were the same.

It hardly mattered. It was not as though Yennefer would ever go back.

(A small part of her thought once that it might be satisfying, to revisit the farm and show them who she had become. The rest of her knew that even if they believed her to be the same Jenny they once scorned, there was nothing they could say that would make up for the fact that they were some of the few people barring Tissaia who knew that she had once been bought for less than the value of a pig.)

The baby slowly settled, the squalling cries subsiding in favour of miserable hiccups.

Yennefer patted the baby’s back, rocking her gently.

“Let’s get off this shitty beach, shall we...” she considered for a moment, and then her guilty heart whispered the name of the last and perhaps only person to ever offer her unqualified kindness.

“Anica. I will call you Anica,” Yennefer decided.

Perhaps it was bad form to give a child the name of someone so ill-fated, but something perverse in Yennefer liked the symmetry of it- an ill-fated name for an ill-fated child.

“Your mother was right about one thing,” Yennefer mused, idly drying both of their clothes with a simple spell and then holding tiny Anica close to her breast. “You’re a girl, and to the world that means we’re just vessels. Even when we’re told we’re special, as I was, as your namesake was, and as you would have been, we’re still just vessels, for them to take, and take, until we’re empty and alone.”

Anica made a low cooing sound, and Yennefer found herself smiling down at the baby’s soft chubby face. “But I promise, little one, I’ll take care of you. I’ll teach you how to cheat the game.”

Because, Yennefer mused to herself as she cradled Anica, other than refusing to play, there was only one sure-fire way to win a rigged game.

Change the rules.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yennefer almost literally runs into some help

Yennefer considered casting another portal spell, but even had she not been worn down to near-exhaustion from her recent overuse of magic, she realised that she had nowhere to go. Even if she wished to return to Aretuza, (and if she never set foot in that place again, she would consider it good riddance,) she could hardly go there with a baby in tow.

Especially not _this_ baby. Yennefar did not like the odds of how the Conclave would react to a royal baby in their midst. At best, someone would decide that Anica should be trained to serve some future machinations on Aretuza’s behalf.

At worst… Yennefer unconsciously clutched Anica more tightly. 

The wind picked up, and Yennefer turned instinctively so that Anica was shielded from the loose sand that stung at her exposed skin.

Right. Time to get out of the elements.

Fortunately, Yennefer had no sooner staggered away from the beach than she almost ran into a woman carrying a basket full of driftwood.

“Gracious gods, where did you spring from!” the woman exclaimed.

Yennefer shrugged. “I am a little lost. Please,” she looked down at Anica, who was clutching at the fabric of her dress and starting to whimper again, “we need help. I’m willing to pay-”

The woman, who looked distinctly wary at the bedraggled and bloodied sight that Yennefer presented, noticeably softened when her attention was drawn to the baby girl, and she quickly interrupted.

“Oh goodness, the poor little mite. Come with me, and I’ll see if we can’t get the two of you cleaned up. No, don’t talk of payment, it’s been a good fishing season, and with a little one you’ll be needing all the help you can get. Do you need healing? There’s a cunning woman down the way who’s a dab hand at tinctures, why, she cured my Ro of-” the woman had babbled then, leading Yennefer back to the humble but comfortable cottage that she lived in, and then seemingly from nowhere pulling out clean swaddling cloths and baby clothes for Yennefer to re-dress Anica in. By the time Yennefer had tucked the wriggling Anica into soft and sturdy wool, the woman had brought out bread and cheese, and a pot of water was boiling for tea and water for Yennefer to wash the blood off with.

“Thank you,” Yennefer said, surprised at the kindness. “Please, tell me your name?”

The woman beamed, and Yennefer politely ignored the fact that most of her teeth were cracked or missing. “I’m Fara. Fara Spinner.”

“Ah,” Yennefer realised. “So, you made these clothes?”

Fara grinned wider. “Thought you looked like a clever one. Aye. And you? What’s your story?”

Yennefer grimaced, but with an ease born of long decades at court, she changed the grimace into a rueful expression. “My story is a long one. My name is… Yen, and this is Anica. From necessity, we’re both far from home.”

“Necessity, huh?” Fara stumped over to the stove, and stirred one of the pots hanging over the fire, tasting the contents, and then plucked some dried bay leaves from where they dangled from a string, alongside a selection of other herbs and a braided rope that alternated onions and garlic. “Is that an Aedirnian accent I hear?” she added.

Yennefer nodded. Vengerberg the capital of Aedirn, was, after all, where she had grown up, and having served in the Aedirnian court, despite the long years in Aretuza, she had reverted back to her linguistic roots (albeit speaking in a mode more appropriate for the court than a pigfarm). Slightly more usefully, it was a good distraction from Anica’s roots as the former princess of Lyria, which she was going to do her best to obfuscate.

“Yes,” Yennefer responded. “Though it has been a long time since I lived there,” she exaggerated. It had only been a year or two since she had last set foot in the Aedirnian capital. “I was sold to a rich woman when I was scarcely more than a child, and even after I was freed from her clutches, I never went back home.”

All of that true, technically. If Yennefer had learned anything in her time at court, it was that the best lies were speaking the truth in a way that led the listener to coming to their own conclusions.

Fara’s eyebrows shot up, and she shook her head sadly. “Sold! That’s a crying shame. Well I’m glad you’re long out of that at least. The baby, is she yours?”

Yennefer smiled tightly, and gently stroked Anica’s hair. “We’re all the other has.” She looked Fara dead in the eye. “Her father killed her mother, and I rescued her.” She ducked her head, letting her still-damp hair fall in front of her face. “I couldn’t save her mother, but...”

Fara eyed her, and then nodded slowly.

“I suspect there’s a lot more to that story,” Fara said, and Yennefer managed to resist the urge to wince. “But so long as you swear that it won’t bring trouble to my door, I’ll not press you further. Though I would recommend finding something a little more… subtle than that get-up if you intend on staying around these parts. A beautiful stranger is enough to make people talk. A beautiful stranger in finery?” Fara clicked her tongue sceptically.

Yennefer looked down at her gown and couldn’t help but recognise that the Spinner had a point.

“I would be happy to trade it for something more… suitable,” she said.

Fara scoffed. “I’ll have a hard time finding a buyer in these parts, but I suppose I could find a use for the fabric. But let’s not call it a trade just yet. Have a meal with me and my Ro, and you and the babe get some sleep, and then we’ll put our heads together and work something out.” Her gaze softened as she stared into the middle distance. “I wondered when it would come time to pay our good fortunes forward, and it looks as though I’ll be wondering no more.”

Yennefer wondered what that was supposed to mean, but decided to not press.

“Thank you,” said Yennefar. “You are too kind.”

Fara laughed bitterly. “Not kind enough by half, but the world takes and takes, and tries to shape us into being cruel just to survive. It pleases me to spit in the face of that and be kind anyway. Mark my words,” she said, moving to remove the kettle from the fire, “any idiot can set fire to a house, but it takes time, skill and love to build a home.”

“You quoting that bard again?” came a voice from the window.

Yennefer threw herself between the window and Anica before she was fully conscious of moving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so apparently I'm continuing this for now. Hope you like OCs, because there's probably going to be a Lot of OCs in this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fara's partner is introduced and Yennefer is struck by the realisation that she is now a primary care-giver.

Yennefer had her hands raised to throw a spell at the stranger before Fara stepped between her and the window.

“Whoa there Yen!” Fara called out, waving her hands palm downwards in the universal ‘back down, drop your weapons’ motion. “This is just my Ro, back from fishing. And she is _sorry for startling you_ , aren’t you Ro.”

The face at the window, a woman with short-cropped grey hair springing in wiry curls around a bandanna, looked distinctly chagrined. Especially when Anica, startled by the sudden movements, started to cry.

“Sorry there lovely! Didn’t mean to affright you! Ooh, is that a wee bairn? Where’d the two of you come from then?” she said in an accent that was distinctively Skelliger. “Actually, wait a bit and I’ll be over yonder so none of us will have to shout.” The face ducked away, and Yennefer could hear the sounds of someone washing in the rain-barrel outside.

Yennefer turned to see Anica’s little face squinched up and reddening as she demanded comfort via ululating yells. Yennefer quickly picked the baby up, gently patting her back and rocking her.

“Shhh, shhhh little one,” she murmured. “It’s alright now. I’m sorry I scared you. Shhhh.”

Anica slowly settled, and when Yennefer looked back up, it was to see Fara smiling a little ruefully. “Sorry about her,” the older woman said softly. “Been with her near forty years now, and Ro has never met a conversation she didn’t want to barge into.”

“Me ma despaired of me, used to say I got it from me pa,” Ro agreed cheerfully as she clomped in through the front door, a string of fish dangling from one hand. “Look at what I caught today, Fara darling!”

“Well two of those will do us all well for supper, and the rest for the smokehouse,” Fara decided.

Ro nodded. “Sounds good. You roasting or frying?”

“Frying,” said Fara. “Our guests are looking hungry.” She waved a hand in Yennefer’s direction. “Ro, this is Yen, and the baby is Anica.”

Ro smiled distractedly in Yennefer’s direction, and pulled a face at the baby, who was looking up curiously at the noisy newcomer, before continuing her conversation with Fara. “Have the bream then. I’ll put the mackeral in the smokehouse,” she said, passing over two fish that Yennefer was able to identify as being distinctly flatter in shape compared to the others. She then turned to look at Yennefer, and visibly paused when she spotted the blood from Yennefer’s shoulder wound.

“Oh, and you already gutted them for me! Thank you darling,” said Fara, touching Ro’s elbow, nudging her towards the door.

Ro, apparently deciding that meant Fara had things in hand, let herself be nudged.

“Anything for you,” she said, dropping a kiss onto Fara’s weathered cheek before clomping back out the door again.

Yennefer watched this interaction with bewildered fascination. Forty years they had been together? She could barely remember the last lover she had who interested her for more than forty minutes.

(Carefully, she resisted the urge to think of Istredd. It had been thirty years since she had last seen him, and sometimes she wondered about what could have been had she known then at 18 what she knew now about the hollowness of courts… But Yennefer had not managed to get this far by dwelling too hard on what ifs and maybes. Deep down, she knew that she had been right the first time. Letting a man, even a relatively kind one like Istredd, decree how she lived her life would have felt like a slow suicide. Besides, he broke her trust once, passing on her confidence of her elven heritage like a hound puppy bringing back a dead bird. She had no reason to expect that he would not do it again.) 

Fara took the kettle off the hob then, and poured steaming water into a bowl, along with a clean cloth.

“Here, use this to clean off some of the blood and salt. Then I’ll see if I can’t find you something that hasn’t been dipped in the sea recently to change into,” Fara said.

“Thank you,” said Yennefer. She looked down at Anica, who used that moment to open her mouth in a tiny yawn. “Actually, is there somewhere I could lay her down to nap?” she asked.

Fara nodded towards the back of the one-roomed cottage. “For now, just stick her on the bed.”

Yennefer stepped over to the bed and proceeded to use one hand to pull one of the blankets into a nest so that Anica would not be easily able to roll off the straw mattress.

She watched for a moment, seeing if Anica was about to start getting upset about being moved or put down, but other than some soft grunts of displeasure, the baby seemed happy enough to close her eyes.

“A cute one that bairn,” came a sudden comment, and Yennefer barely resisted the urge to jump.

Ro had left her boots by the door, and her footsteps on the packed dirt floor had been muffled by thick woollen slippers.

“Sorry about that,” she said, brown eyes crinkling with humour. “Fara’s always at me about startling her, but I didn’t want to make too much noise when you’re just setting her down.”

Yennefer attempted to smile. “It’s fine,” she said. She wanted to wash, but she was not comfortable with having the other woman closer to Anica before she had had a chance to get her measure.

Possibly Ro was perceptive, because she shrugged, and walked over to the table, sitting down at one of the four slightly battered chairs.

Yennefer followed, and took up the washcloth, wiping at her face and hands, before carefully dabbing around the scab near her collarbone.

“That’s a nasty cut you got there,” Ro said, eyeing the wound. “Stab wound, or I miss my guess. You in trouble?”

Yennefer grimaced.

“Leave her be,” said Fara from the stove.

Ro shook her head. “I’m not asking for her to divulge any secrets, but you know we’d not be much help if some band of brigands were to come knocking.” She shot a look at Yennefer. “I’d rather know what we need to look out for, if it’s all the same.”

Yennefer shrugged. “I highly doubt anyone would think to come looking for us here. Come to think of it, where are we exactly?”

Both women eyed Yennefer a little dubiously.

“We’re in Redania,” said Ro after a moment. “Roggeven is about a day and a half south.”

Well that certainly could have been worse, Yennefer thought.

She was at least a kingdom away from Lyria, but also close enough to Aedirn that probably no one would assume she would have chosen to go to ground here. Especially since this was Philippa Eilhart’s territory, and the ‘Jewel of the Court at Tretogor’ was certainly not known for her altruism. Fortunately, she also considered Tissaia de Vries a rival, and so would not lift a finger should the other ask to track her erstwhile student down. All Yennefer had to do to stay below Philippa’s sight would be to avoid the capital, and all things considered, that was a sacrifice that Yennefer was more than willing to make.

“How did you end up on the beach if you don’t even know where you are?” Fara asked reasonably.

Ro looked over at Fara. “What happened to leaving her be?” she said.

Fara opened her mouth to retort, but Yennefer raised her hand. She considered her options. She could lie, but her gut instinct was that a little honesty would go a long way with these women.

In the end, she decided that if they were going to have a problem with her being a magic user, it was better to find out now rather than later.

Yennefer sighed, bracing herself. “I’m a sorceress.”

Both women looked her up and down.

After a brief pause, Ro snorted. “Well that explains the fancy duds and the purple eyes.”

Yennefer, shocked at what appeared to be easy acceptance, distantly half-considered correcting her, but decided that specifying what parts of her had been magically altered was not a conversation she felt like having.

Fara shoved Ro’s arm lightly. “More to the point, it explains why you popped out of nowhere on the beach. I would have seen a boat when I was collecting driftwood.” She considered for a moment, and then nodded firmly, meeting Yennefer’s eyes unflinchingly. “It’s good that you’re protecting that child then. You thinking about staying in these parts? If so, anyone we should be keeping an eye out for?”

Yennefer stared at the both of them. She was not that much younger than these women in terms of years experienced, but for a humbling moment, she felt almost awed at how easily they took her nature in stride. She had been expecting a host of negative reactions- fear and hostility at the very least.

But this easy acceptance and open concern?

Flabbergasted at her luck, she shrugged almost awkwardly in response to Fara’s question. “Perhaps. I doubt anyone will think to look for us here. Anica is not the name she was born with, and I suspect the… her father will expect that we’re both dead.”

Ro clenched her fists, and Fara bit her lip in response to that statement, but neither questioned it.

“In the short term I need to find permanent lodging for myself and Anica.” Yennefer continued. “I have some skill with the use of herbs and magic. I’m sure I’ll find a way to earn my keep.”

Ro huffed a laugh. “Some skill eh? Likely then. Well, if you want to know how you could be of use here, Fara gets the most wicked of pains when there’s a storm brewing.”

Fara smacked her on the shoulder. “Ro! I don’t need you speaking for me.”

Ro rolled her eyes. “You never ask for anything for yourself, of course I’m going to speak for you.”

Their eyes met, and their argument continued via facial expression before at some signal that Yennefer could not quite decipher, Fara threw her hands up in disgust and Ro smirked, kissing her on the cheek.

“Ugh fine!” Fara said, turning to Yennefer. “There’s an abandoned cottage about three miles west of here. The family who lived there were travelling and got caught in an attack by some manner of fell beast. Last I checked, no one had taken it yet. It’ll need some cleaning and some repairs no doubt, but it’d be a roof over you and the little one’s head. I’ll ask around, see who has some idle hands who wouldn’t mind a bit of work. All in exchange for future favours that you’ll have to work out with them, of course.”

Yennefer nodded her understanding, knowing that Fara was being incredibly generous. It had been a long time since she had had to worry about the social structures of rural communities, but she remembered enough to know that honouring the exchange of favours was at least as important as it was in any of the courts she had served in.

Ro nudged Fara then, and Fara scowled in return, before she looked back at Yennefer, smoothing out her features. “If you’re willing to trade that dress, I’ll outfit you and the babe with enough clothes and blankets to keep you for a season or two. If you can do something to lessen my pains, I’ll give you one of our goats.”

Yennefer blinked. “A goat?”

Fara tilted her head. “Did you have another plan for how you were going to feed that baby? Unless you were going to look for a wet nurse?” She frowned. “I don’t think there’s been any new babies in the past year in these parts, but I could ask around?”

Yennefer winced. Of course Anica needed some form of sustenance. She was too young for solid food, and it was not as though Yennefer could produce milk. Well. Not without doing magical experimentation on herself, which she was hesitant to do in case something went horribly wrong.

Yennefer had perhaps not really thought this whole motherhood thing through.

It truly was incredible luck that she had run into Fara. Yennefer could think of a few things worth trying off the top of her head for Fara’s pain. She would have to have a look to see what herbs grew locally, and if the cunning woman Fara had mentioned had anything on hand that Yennefer could boost the efficacy of.

Ro shook her head, continuing the conversation where Fara had left off. “There was Iona from the sheep farm, but the birthing took her. I hear tell that Yashlyn Miller is pregnant, but she’s not supposed to be due until midsummer…”

“Thank you,” Yennefer interrupted, “but the goat should do just fine.”

Both women beamed at her, and as if taking that as her cue, Anica started crying from the bed.

Yennefer strode over, and upon bending over the bed to pick the baby up, noticed a distinctive pungent smell emanating from Anica.

“Shit,” she muttered.

She _definitely_ had not thought this through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so, according to the Netflix timeline, Geralt and Yennefer don't meet for another 16 years after this.
> 
> For the most part I'm going to be sticking to the canon events, but I'm debating having Geralt and/or Jaskier show up a little earlier. People got a strong preference?


	4. Chapter 4

The first years of living with Anica seemed to consist of never-ending long days, and yet when Ro showed up at her door with a gift for Anica’s third birthday, it caught Yennefer by surprise.

Had it not been just yesterday that she had stumbled up the beach and befriended Fara and Ro?

Taking care of Anica in the early days had been an uphill struggle through thick forest in the dark.

Actually, worse than that. Yennefer would have had the option of portalling away or conjuring light or a thousand other such possibilities if she had been put in such a situation.

But with Anica, Yennefer had quickly discovered that while magic was good for many things, somehow it was next to useless for most aspects of caring for a baby.

Sure, illusions could keep Anica entertained for a while, and sure, Yennefer could easily diffuse the astonishing smells that the little girl regularly produced with a little wind manipulation spell, but there was no substitute for being awake and vigilant and ready with affection when it came to taking care of her daughter.

The first time Anica had caught a cold had been terrifying.

The first time Yennefer had greeted someone at the door with mashed baby food in her hair had been mortifying.

The third time Anica threw up all over herself and Yennefer five times in the same day, thus meaning that neither of them had clean clothes to wear until Yennefer washed them, had been frustrating.

Every time that Anica woke up in the middle of the night and cried until Yennefer comforted her was exhausting.

That one time that Anica had pulled herself up using furniture and had nearly pulled a delicate and somewhat dangerous casting that Yennefer had been working on to the floor....

If it had not been for Fara and Ro and a few of the other village women piping up with sensible advice and occasional offers to give Yennefer a chance to rest and brew potions that were unwise to make around non-mutated humans, let alone infants, Yennefer was fairly sure that she would have gone entirely mad.

Still, even if the reality of being a mother was harder than Yennefer had first realised, there was a deep and enduring satisfaction she found in raising Anica. Having responsibility over the tiny girl’s wellbeing was both the scariest and best feeling.

Yennefer found herself using Anica almost as a talisman at times. If Anica was sleeping or smiling then all was well, the warm place behind her sternum assured her.

Idly, Yennefer wondered what those at Aretuza would have thought, seeing her collecting herbs with Anica tied to her back in a sling, tangling sticky fingers in Yennefer’s hair.

And then Anica started _walking_ and _talking_ and unlatching the door to let herself outside, and then everything was a blur of trying to instil manners and decorum, (or at least a willingness to listen when Yennefer’s tone became serious,) in an excitable toddler who wanted to chase butterflies and crabs, and inspect dead fish and collect allegedly ‘special’ rocks and bits of driftwood. An energetic toddler who took a disconcertingly long time to accept

that food was supposed to be eaten and not thrown, and to learn where it was and was not acceptable to defecate. A half-wild toddler whose favourite word seemed to flip from “why” to “no” and back again, depending on how close to sleeping-time it was and who woke up with the sun, regardless of how late Yennefer had been up working on spell commissions.

As bewildering and irritating and humbling as the whole experience was at times, Yennefer would not have traded motherhood for anything.

The shine that she could put into Anica’s eyes when she showed her “magic” like baking bread and how to identify herbs that would make the stew taste better or how to listen to the ocean by holding a shell to her ear. The feeling when Anica ran to her with raised arms, demanding to be picked up whenever Yennefer returned to collect her from temporary minders (usually Fara or Ro, but sometimes others would offer to watch Anica in exchange for minor cantrips or charms). The way Anica listened raptly when Yennefer told stories meant to teach lessons, even when occasionally Yennefer realised that she did not yet understand them. The fact Anica called her “Mama”.

Those were the things that made it worth it.

Yennefer was not without regrets, but she could not regret her decision to raise Anica as her own.

One day when she was doing the usual exchange of fresh pain-reducing potion for clothes for the rapidly-growing Anica, Yennefer admitted as much to Fara.

Fara had smiled, and then had paused, looking thoughtful.

“What?” Yennefer asked then. Yennefer knew that expression by now. Ro called it Fara’s “scheming for your own good look”, and Yennefer thought the description was apt.

“Did you hear about what happened to the Trappers?” Fara asked.

Yennefer nodded soberly. Estha Trapper, her daughter Elenna, her husband Kelmet, and his brother Jordy, had gone into the nearby woods to check their snares. Only Elenna had left the woods alive, filthy with blood and mud, and completely silent. Ally Cutter had found what remained of the adult Trappers’ bodies, identifying them by Estha’s gore-spattered but recognisable scarf, and Kelmet and Jordy’s fur-lined boots. Clearly a monster was responsible, but none of the villagers were foolish or skilled enough to try and figure out what kind.

“What about them?” Yennefer asked. She heard a squeal, and she looked through the window and saw that Ro was tossing Anica into the air, and catching her, much to the child’s obvious delight.

“The daughter,” Fara responded. “Elenna hasn’t said a word since she left the woods.”

Yennefer pressed her lips together. Obviously, the child was traumatised, but… “It’s been weeks,” she realised.

Fara grimaced and nodded. “The Millers who took her in don’t know what to do with her. From what Yashlyn Miller told me, they would have believed that she had been struck dumb, except at she has been having screaming nightmares.” She shook her head sadly. “No one is getting a wink of sleep in that house, and Humboldt Miller was heard down at the tavern wondering aloud if the girl was cursed. No one knows precisely how she escaped so…”

Yennefer swore under her breath. Those were not words that were easily bandied about.

“I suppose I should go and offer my services then, and lay those concerns to rest,” Yennefer said aloud, well aware that this was precisely what Fara had been hoping for by bringing Elenna’s circumstances to her attention. Yennefer wondered if this meant she was going soft, but decided that all things considered, she owed Fara and to a lesser extent Yashlyn Miller (who had watched Anica on more than one occasion and had freely shared her goatsmilk soap recipe without being asked), and this was something that was well within her powers.

“Do you and Ro mind watching Anica for another few hours? I have a visit to make,” Yennefer said.

Fara smiled at her as she left.

Two hours later, Yennefer returned, one hand pressed gently to the shoulder of Elenna Trapper, the other holding a basket that held most of the girl’s worldly possessions. Elenna seemed to be walking as though in a dream, but seemed content enough to be led.

“There now, for tonight you can share Anica’s bed, and then tomorrow we’ll get you a proper mattress of your own,” Fara heard Yennefer saying.

Elenna nodded slowly, reaching for the basket. Yennefer let her have it, but led her up to where Fara was gathering berries nearby.

“This here is one of our neighbours, Fara. If you ever need something and you cannot find me, their home is just over that rise,” Yennefer continued, voice soft as she gently steered Elenna a little in front of her.

Her expression on the other hand, was as cold as the winter wind.

Fara resisted the urge to shiver, and waved at Elenna. “Hello Elenna! It has been a long time since we saw one another, but your mother used to sell me furs for trimming winter cloaks.”

Elenna nodded dully, fine blonde hair flopping into her face.

Fara felt her heart break. Was this the same child who had once seemed so vivacious?

As if to rub in the difference, there suddenly came a giggling shriek, and Anica came running from around the rise, Ro hot on her heels.

“Who’s this, Mama?” Anica blurted out when she saw the older child.

Yennefer bent down and swung Anica onto her hip.

“This, Anica, is Elenna. She’s going to be living with us for a time.”

Anica blinked, and then leaned towards other girl, forcing Yennefer to shift her grip or risk dropping her.

“Are you my new sister?” Anica asked. “I’m Anica. I’m this many!” she exclaimed, holding up four fingers.

Yennefer rolled her eyes. “Not until your birthday, and that’s next season.”

Fara covered her mouth with one hand, and Ro tried and failed to stifle a snort.

For the first time, Elenna seemed to actually focus on something.

Unperturbed by the lack of reply, Anica demanded, “How many are you?”

Elenna slowly held up her hands, showing 8 fingers.

Anica blinked, and then seriously said, “You’re almost as old as Mama!”

This time Yennefer snorted. “I’m a bit older than that.” She looked down at Anica. “Elenna is going to need to share your bed tonight, but we’ll get her her own tomorrow. How about you show her where she’ll be sleeping?”

Anica nodded, and then wriggled until Yennefer put her down, taking Elenna’s hand and half-dragging her into the cottage.

The three women watched the girls leave earshot, and a silence settled between them for a long moment.

“I’m sorry,” Fara said. “I thought…”

Yennefer scoffed, but to Fara’s relief, her glare seemed distinctly half-hearted.

“You knew I couldn’t leave a child to suffer,” Yennefer said.

Fara winced. “More like hoped,” she admitted. “And honestly, I hoped that if you could settle matters about the child being cursed or not…” She shook her head. “Yashlyn Miller is a good woman, but…”

“But her husband is a miserly piece of shit,” Ro finished when Fara trailed off.

Yennefer grimaced. “Next time, be more upfront with me. I’ll see how she does with me and Anica. Hopefully in time she’ll start talking again, but meanwhile, I’ll do what I can.”

“That’s all any of us can do,” Fara said, and Ro wrapped an arm around her.

“We’ll watch her when you need, just the same as we watch Anica,” Ro promised.

Yennefer nodded, turned on her heel and walked towards her home.

“I hope I did the right thing,” Fara muttered to her wife as they turned for their own home.

Ro snorted. “Yen’s got a bigger heart than she thinks she does. It’ll work out.”

Years later, Fara would recall this conversation, and laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fara: Oh, I hear there's an orphan in dire straits nearby. Someone should really do something about that.  
> Yennefer: First of all, you're not subtle. Second of all-  
> Anica: Whoo! Big Sister!  
> Yennefer: Shit.

**Author's Note:**

> Because rather than chasing djinns and dragons in a quest to become a mother, Yennefer really should have just considered adoption.
> 
> Debating on continuing this. If I do, there will be a timeskip.


End file.
